It'll be okay
by sexierthanthetardis
Summary: HighSchool AU. Castiel is being abused by his father and tries to hide it from dean. warning: mentions of suicide and self-mutilation


It was way too hot outside. It was the middle of the day in the middle of summer and, against his will, Cas was sitting beside the lake while his friends were fishing and swimming. He had wanted to stay home and read, but no. Dean and Charlie had decided he needed to go outside and get some fresh air. He didn't want fresh air or sunlight. What he needed right now was some sunblock and air conditioning.

"Having fun yet, Cas?" Dean asked, casting his fishing line out again.

"No. Can I go home now?"

"You can't go home until you have some fun," Dean said, watching Charlie, Sam, Benny, and Kevin playing chicken a couple yards away.

Cas huffed and put his chin on his knees. He began calculating how long it would take for him to walk home from here, but in this sweltering heat he would never make it back before nightfall.

"You know, you might have more fun if you took off that stupid jacket of yours. You must be hot; go swimming for a little bit."

Cas instinctively pulled at the sleeves on his jacket, making them cover his hands.

"I like my jacket," he lied, "And besides, you know I can't swim."

Dean sighed and continued fishing. After a few more hours, everyone started to get tired and decided it was time to go home. Cas was relieved when they finally pulled into his driveway to drop him off.

"Wanna go to the mall tomorrow?" Charlie yelled when as he fiddled with his house keys.

"Sure!" he called back. Anything indoors with air conditioning would be wonderful.

They drove off and Cas eventually got his keys to work in his front door lock. It had been broken for a few years, but since it still technically worked, his dad refused to fix it.

He walked in the house and found his Father passed out on the living room couch. He wasn't surprised, and he went to the kitchen to start making dinner. When he finished cooking, he made his father a plate and brought it to him, laying it down on the small coffee table in front of the couch.

"Dad. Dinner."

His father didn't respond, so he tried to gently shake his shoulder. Startled, his father grabbed his arm and twisted it backwards defensively. Cas muffled a small shriek and waited as his father got his senses back and let go of his arm.

"What's for dinner?" His dad asked, picking up the plate and fork; only halfway conscious at this point.

"Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and some peas."

His dad angrily dropped the plate on the table, causing a loud crashing noise. The fork was still in his hand.

"You know that I don't eat peas," his dad said, dangerous calm in his steady voice.

"Yes you do," Cas said, trying to save the situation, "You ate some just the other day."

His father stood up, anger beginning to show on him.

"Are you calling me a liar, son?"

"No sir," Cas said, knowing where the situation was going and beginning to back away slowly, "I only meant that-"

"You only meant that what?" his father shouted, slamming Castiel against the wall behind him.

Fear flashed across Cas's face as his father brought his fist down on his small body over and over and over again. He knew from previous experiences that screaming only made things worse, so he bit his lip as the blows continued. When his father was done, he flung him to the floor.

"Go to your room. I don't want to see your ass for the rest of the night."

As quickly as he could without falling into his dad or the wall, Cas got up and made his way upstairs to his room. He quickly shut and locked his door and fell to the floor, tears running down his face. He had gotten used to the pain, it was something of a daily occurrence that his father would get angry at something and lash out, but he hated how weak he felt. He hated how he had no way of stopping what was happening to him. The weak feeling is what he really couldn't take.

Castiel shrugged off his jacket and looked at his arms. Scars covered them from his wrists all the way up. He hated looking at them, but he had to. He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out the pocketknife he carried everywhere. He flipped it up and began pulling the blade across his pale white skin; each new cut bring a small release from the pain that came with the overwhelming weakness he felt. Fourteen cuts later, he put the knife back in his pocket and decided to go to sleep.

~*~*~*~Next Day~*~*~*~

Cas woke up to the sound of Enter Sandman playing. Groggily, he picked up his phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey sleepy head," Charlie said on the other end of the phone, "Get dressed. We'll be over in twenty."

Charlie hung up and Cas sighed. He walked over to the mirror beside his desk and began evaluating the damage from last night. From what he could tell, most of the hits ended up out of visible range, but he definitely had a black eye. He pulled out the foundation he kept under his pillow and began covering up the dark swollen skin. When he was finished, he put it back under his pillow. He didn't need his dad finding makeup in his room and start accusing him of being a faggot. Technically he was gay, but that didn't mean his dad had to know.

He threw on some new jeans and grabbed a red hoodie from his closet. He always kept his arms covered whether it was 10 degrees outside of 110 degrees. When he heard Dean and Charlie pull up, he sneaked past his father's bedroom and ran down the stairs and out the door.

"Nice hair, Cas," Dean commented when he jumped in the car.

Cas shrugged. He hadn't thought about brushing his hair, but it wouldn't have made a difference anyways. It looks like this all the time.

The trio drove to the mall and began looking through various stores. They stopped at the food court and grabbed some pizza. Dean and Cas sat across from each other at the table. Cas wouldn't admit it, but he had had a crush on Dean since they were thirteen. Cas had told Charlie, and despite his protests that Dean was definitely straight, She continued to try to secretly get them together. This included things like standing really close to them so they all had to be touching shoulders while they walked, always sitting next to dean when they ate so that the two boys were force to look at each other the whole time, and other things of that nature.

When they got home, Cas said goodbye to Dean and Charlie and promised Dean he would text him later. Everyone waved goodbye and Cas, after battling the lock for about 5 minutes, went inside his house. When he entered, he saw his father standing right behind the door, obviously furious.

"I'm home," Cas said, timidly closing the door behind him.

"Sit down," his father barked, motioning to the couch in the living room.

Obediently Castiel moved to sit down on the couch. He began mentally preparing himself for whatever his dad could be angry about.

"What's this?" his father asked, tossing a small black container at him.

Castiel caught it and fear swept over his face. It was the foundation hid under his pillow. He looked up in time to see his father's fist swinging at his mouth. Pain exploded at his jaw, but he ignored it.

"It's not what you're thinking-" Cas began, only to be cut off by another blow to the head.

"It's not what? Is this not makeup? Where you not hiding it? Is my son not a fucking faggot?"

With each question he flung Castiel against a different wall. Black spots began dancing in his vision and he was unable to respond. Furious, his father continued to beat him mercilessly. Knowing he couldn't say anything to stop it, Cas tried to remain silent. Unfortunately, this time he couldn't hold in his cries of pain, and his father only got more and more angry. When he eventually stopped, Castiel thought for a moment that he was dead.

"You have ten seconds to get out of my sight."

As quickly as he could with his current injuries, Cas hurried upstairs to his room, closing and locking the door behind him. He cried for a long time, and when he eventually stopped, he knew what he was going to do. He pulled out the knife in his pocket and brought it to his arm, intent on leaving the world this time.

"Cas!" Dean shrieked from outside the window.

Cas turned, stunned, to look at his friend who was now banging on his bedroom window. Quickly, so that his dad wouldn't be alerted by the sound, Cas went over and opened the window, letting dean crawl inside.

"What are you doing here?" Cas asked, still confused by the current situation.

"You didn't answer my texts, so I got worried, "Dean said, bringing his hand up to gently touch his friend's bloody face, "What happened to you?"

"My dad," Cas said, avoiding eye contact. He had been keeping the abuse a secret for all these years.

Dean looked down at Cas's arm, gently picking it up to look at it.

"What were you doing just now?" Dean ran his fingers over the scars littering his arm, "And how long have you been doing this?"

Cas pulled his arm away and walked over to his bed. Dean followed his and sat down next to him. For a moment he hesitated, afraid of what would happen next, but then Cas told Dean everything; How his dad had been beating him since his mom died, how he had started cutting a few years ago, how his dad had found the makeup, and how he was about to end everything just now.

Dean took Castiel's hand in his, running his thumb over the back of his hand.

"Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"I was afraid," he said, feeling tears starting to come up again.

Dean wrapped his arms around his friend and drew him close.

"You can come and stay with me for a little while and get away from your dad. Everything will get better. Just please… I couldn't handle it if you died. I need you."

"That's really kind, Dean, but I don't know if that will work."

"You don't understand," he said, leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on Castiel's busted lips, "I need you man."

Castiel smiled. "Okay, we can try it."

Dean smiled and leaned in to kiss him again. Castiel's face hurt where dean touched him, but he didn't care. He was with Dean, and everything was going to be okay.


End file.
